


Time Heals All Wounds

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-23
Updated: 2006-02-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Quills Contest Entry. An encounter with a ship in distress gives Trip and T'Pol the opportunity to spend time together and help Doctor Phlox with ... a situation. (08/09/2003)





	1. A Ship in Distress

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

Captain Archer had been fast asleep when his comm panel beeped and the monotone voice of his Vulcan science officer informed him that they were picking up a very faint distress signal. Porthos whined in the dark as Archer crawled out of bed to answer her.

"Should we investigate, captain?" T'Pol questioned with a note of disguised disapproval in her voice.

"How far away?" he asked.

"We could intercept the vessel, which is traveling at impulse speed, in thirty-four minutes." she replied.

"Set course. I'm on my way to the bridge." he said. Jonathan Archer was never one to miss out on meeting new people and helping them, if possible, but he did wish that it was something he could do during regular business hours, so to speak, and not in the dead of night.

As Archer stepped onto the bridge, he glanced at his senior officers who had also obeyed the summons. Lieutenant Reed was working busily at the tactical station. A bleary-eyed Travis Mayweather sat at the helm, gazing straight ahead, but occasionally rubbing his eyes. Hoshi was listening intently with her ear piece in place, no doubt working on boosting the signal of the ship in distress. T'Pol was at her station, working tirelessly, with Commander Tucker standing just behind her, watching her with a smile while monitoring engineering from a nearby panel.

Those two had been through a lot together, Archer was forced to admit. Trip and T'Pol, not mention Doctor Phlox, had been yanked through time some weeks before, immediately after which the ship had been in danger from a hull breach. Archer could see how everything had happened. They had fallen in love. He could almost kick himself for his brief infatuation with the Sub-commander, who still tried to hide the fondness that she felt for the chief engineer, even when it was all too obvious. Commander Tucker had never been good at concealing his feelings. But still, as Captain Archer watched them, it baffled him that such an unlikely romance could blossom. Not that he disapproved. He had always wanted Trip, his best friend, to find that special someone and to find happiness. Archer could tell that for whatever reason, Trip had that chance with T'Pol.

"Captain." said Hoshi from her station, trying to get his attention, which had wandered.

"Hoshi." he acknowledged, sitting up a little straighter in his seat.

"This is really odd, but I'm almost positive that the language the signal is being sent in is Denobulan, sir." she said, squinting as she listened. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"That should not be surprising, ensign. The Denobulans have been a space-faring race for some time." T'Pol informed her.

"What's it say, Hoshi?" inquired the captain.

"Just help, I think. It's an automated signal." she replied.

"Can we tell what's wrong?" asked Archer.

"The ship is traveling a sub-warp speed. That would indicate damage to their main engines or a related system." answered Trip, peering over at the readout at T'Pol's station.

"I concur." said Sub-commander T'Pol.

"Damage? As in an accident or ... trouble?" asked Archer.

"According to long range scanners, it appears that the vessel has been attacked." answered T'Pol.

"Yeah, an' it's a tiny ship too." added Trip.

"Well, if it's a Denobulan ship, we should probably have the doctor up here when we contact them." said the captain. "Hoshi, get Phlox."

The ship's chief medical officer stood unobtrusively near the rear of the bridge as the Enterprise dropped out of warp. If he was surprised to be meeting up with a Denobulan ship in that area of space, none of the bridge crew could tell by looking at him. As the image of a gray, rectangular ship filled the view screen, Phlox may have leaned forward slightly for a better view, but hardly more than that.

"Open hailing frequencies." ordered the captain. Hoshi nodded to indicate that she had done so. "This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the Enterprise. We picked up your distress signal sometime ago and wish to offer our assistance. What seems to be the problem?" he asked, although looking at the scorched and pitted hull of the small vessel, it was obvious that they had been fired upon and perhaps boarded.

"Thank you! I can't believe someone heard us! Thank you! We are most grateful." came a voice, a warbling tenor that was quite different from that of their resident Denobulan's voice, moments before visual contact was established.

Captain Archer had never met a Denobulan before he met Phlox. He had imagined that they, like the Vulcans, all looked rather alike. But this individual, dressed in a plain black tunic that reminded Archer of a uniform, was certainly thinner and much younger than their physician, but more surprisingly, his hair had a dark reddish, coppery hue to it and his facial ridges were more defined. His eyes were a translucent green, and his expression was haggard and worried though relief was present too.

"Az, is that really you?" asked Phlox, stepping forward. His astonishment was all too apparent.

The expression on the Denobulan's face quickly turned to loathing and he pressed a few keys on his communications panel before speaking. Only one person on the bridge fully understood his words as he yelled at Phlox in unconcealed rage.

"The universal translator is being blocked." said Hoshi, struggling to comprehend, but finding several keywords lacking in her vocabulary.

Phlox stood there silently before the verbal onslaught, clasping his hands behind his back. The screen went black when Az had finished speaking.

"I'm sorry, captain, but it seems that he would rather wait for another ship than see me. Perhaps if I left the bridge ..." suggested the doctor, stepping toward the lift.

"Wait a minute. Did you know him? I mean, come on, Phlox. What was that all about?" asked Captain Archer.

"Perhaps you recall that I have five children, captain, two of whom will not consent to speak with me. That was Az, the elder of the pair." said Phlox. "Now, if you will excuse me, captain ..."

"Of course." Archer agreed. As the lift doors closed, he turned toward Hoshi and asked, "What did he say to him?"

"I don't think Phlox has taught me to say things like that, sir. It wasn't very polite from what I could understand." she replied.

"Well, we have offered to help these people. I'm not going to withdraw the offer just because of a family feud. Get Az back on the screen." Archer ordered.

"Right." said Hoshi, pressing a few buttons.

Az appeared on the view screen again and seemed to relax when he saw that his father was no longer present.

"Captain, I apologize for cutting our earlier communication short, but it was impossible to talk with ... him there." said Az with a stubborn look in his eyes.

"I understand." said Archer, which was not entirely true. He couldn't understand what was wrong between the genial doctor and his son. "Now, how may we assist you?' he questioned.

"Our ship was attacked three weeks ago by an alien race unknown to us. The warp core of our vessel has been badly damaged ... meaning that we may never make it to our destination or ... return home. But that is not the worst of it. The other member of my crew, my brother Tish, has been injured ... He may be dying." Az informed him. Archer's eyes widened in surprise, and he was momentarily grateful that Phlox wasn't on the bridge. He could only imagine the physician's reaction.

"I have engineers onboard that could probably do something for your engines, not to mention your hull, if necessary, but your ... but Phlox is the only fully qualified physician we have here." Archer told him.

"Then Tish will certainly die." said Az, looking down at his station with a defeated expression on his rather thin face.

"Look, that's just plain silly. Why not let Phlox save his life? You wouldn't really have to talk to him. And, besides, is it really worth somebody's, hell, your own brother's life, just to keep up some silly quarrel?" questioned Commander Tucker, unable to restrain himself.

"It would be worth it to Tish." answered Az, the stubborn gleam returning to his eye. "But I would still appreciate the other assistance you have offered. At least with our engines repaired I could return Tish to Denobula."

"Trip ..." said Captain Archer in a warning tone before the commander could speak again. "Fine, but you can always change your mind." he told Az.

"I will ... speak to Tish, and if he is able, he will tell me what he wishes, though he is often of the same mind as I am." answered Az.

Commander Tucker and Sub-commander T'Pol, knowing that they would be sent over to the damaged vessel in a short time, adjourned from the bridge to the mess hall. Trip seemed deep in thought as they sat down together at their usual table. T'Pol was becoming more and more keenly aware of his mood states as they grew closer to one another. She touched his hand lightly as he sighed.

"You are profoundly disturbed, Trip, although I do not completely understand why." she informed him, stirring her morning broth.

He raised his eyes and looked at her, reminding himself that she was Vulcan, not heartless, before answering, "It just kills me that that guy values his own pride over the well-being of his own brother. That's all." Trip paused and managed a little bit of a smile. "It ain't logical." he added.

"No, it is not logical." she agreed, taking the opportunity to correct his grammar.

"What do you think Phlox'll do when he finds out about his other son?"

"The doctor can be very persuasive. He is wise and possesses many skills that we do not often see in use. Perhaps he can change their minds."

"I hope you're right. For Phlox's sake and for that guy's sake too. I would hate to live with the fact that I'd helped kill my own brother by not letting him get proper medical treatment."

T'Pol considered what she knew of the human psyche for a moment and said, "Yes, I imagine so." But what of the Denobulan psyche? That was not a judgment that she wished to make.

"Ready to go then?" asked Trip, pushing away a plate of half eaten eggs.

"Of course. It has been many years since I have seen the interior of a Denobulan vessel. The opportunity should be somewhat instructive." she said.

"And how old were you when you saw your last Denobulan ship?" he asked, following her out of the mess.

"A number of years of younger than I am now." she replied coolly.

"You're never going to tell me your age, are you?"

"No."


	2. The Doctor's Children

Az looked suspicious as Tucker, T'Pol, and three engineers left the shuttlepod. He had half expected his father to be on that pod. Az seemed to relax slightly when the hatch closed behind the four humans and the Vulcan. Trip couldn't help but to notice that Az seemed strained, but the commander could certainly understand that.

"If you will show us to engineering, we can begin surveying the damage." said Commander Tucker.

"Certainly. It is just this way." said Az, leading through the dim interior of the ship, which was obviously operating in a low power mode.

By Trip's estimation, the vessel had come very close to destruction in the confrontation that had all but disabled it. Sparks flew from a panel here and there. Some of the deck plating had begun to buckle, though it had been patched and shored up in a rather shoddy and irregular manner. The smell of acrid smoke reached T'Pol's nostrils as they neared a small compartment that was the engineering section of the small ship, which was about five times the size of the Enterprise shuttlepod.

"This is your engine room?" questioned Trip as they followed Az into the very cramped area.

"Yes." said Az, opening a panel for the engineering team.

"How fast does your ship go?" asked Trip.

"When ... my brother and I first purchased this vessel, we could get warp four point seven out of it on its best days, but it hardly gets more than three now." he answered with a sad sigh. "We blew out so many relays during the chase ... I'm not certain that it will ever work again." he added.

"Aw, don't say that. I'm sure we can rig something up to get you back on your way." said Trip, motioning for his team to start working.

"Thank you." said Az, moving out of their way.

"In the meantime perhaps I could attend to your wounded crewman. I have a medical kit and some basic medical training." offered T'Pol.

"Did he prepare the kit?" asked Az acidly.

"No." she replied.

Az glanced at the engineers, who were already hard at work, opening panels and unpacking tools and simply nodded, leading her back into the main corridor of the ship.

The quarters to which T'Pol was taken were small, obviously designed for a species that needed sleep only once per year and a limited amount of personal space. The room contained two bunks, one of which was folded flush to the wall, serving as something of a shelf. The other was occupied by a male Denobulan with light to medium brown hair and a broad face with narrow, chiseled facial ridges. He bore a certain resemblance to Doctor Phlox. His eyes were closed, and his breathing seemed labored, even to her relatively untrained ears.

"This is Tish." said Az, standing in the doorway as T'Pol walked forward to examine him.

"How long has he been like this?" she asked, opening the medical kit and removing a tricorder. She had programmed it with all the information that she believed she would need.

"Unconscious?"

"Yes."

"Four days. No, maybe five. The chronometer went out ..."

T'Pol took a few scans and looked up at Az.

"He is bleeding internally, very slowly. I can give him something, but it may not be enough." she told him.

"Do it."

As she filled the hypospray T'Pol glanced at him and said, "It is my recommendation that your brother receive treatment from a real doctor. To do otherwise endangers his life."

"Noted." said Az.

"Do either of you have family, wives or children, back on Denobula?" she questioned, wondering how best to appeal to Az, to change his mind. It was hardly her job. It was hardly her business. But what Trip had told her at breakfast stuck. She knew that the young Denobulan would one day have regrets if his inaction led to the premature death of his sibling.

Az gave a coughing laugh and said, "Talk to him about that. I'm sure he will tell you all about it."

"This would be a point of contention between you and Doctor Phlox? Your family?" she asked as she gave Tish the hypospray.

"Yes, or rather, our lack of it." answered Az.

"Your brother seems to be stabilizing, at least temporarily, but he needs more sophisticated treatment." T'Pol told him.

"There is but one physician in the known universe that neither Tish nor I would wish to treat us, and he is the very one to find us. It is ironic. It is unjust. I wish it could be otherwise." sighed Az, shaking his head. "I appreciate what you have done, but if this will not save him, then Tish is indeed doomed."

Captain Archer had delivered bad news before. It wasn't anything especially new. If T'Pol had still been onboard, he might have delegated the responsibility, but she wasn't and he couldn't. He had to be the one to tell Phlox that his son was injured. Phlox deserved to know. When the door of his ready room beeped, he knew it was the ship's doctor, returning from sickbay.

"Enter." Archer called, turning toward the door.

"You wanted to see me, captain?" asked Phlox nervously.

"I have something I have to tell you about the Denobulan ship and its crew." Archer prefaced.

"The ship's official designation it the Zedeev. It is an explorer class vessel and an old one at that. From time to time it is quite possibly used to run small amounts of cargo on an interplanetary basis. It has a crew complement of between two and four, depending upon what upgrades it has or has not had. I suspect that it is still a two-person vessel. I believe that it came to Az and Tish in the condition humans designate as 'used'." Phlox told him.

"So you know that your other son is on that ship?" questioned Archer, rather impressed.

"They are inseparable, always have been. Wherever Az is, Tish is not far behind."

Archer looked at his desk uncomfortably and motioned for the doctor to sit down.

"From what I've been told, Tish has been injured. It's ... not good. T'Pol went over with a med kit, but she hasn't reported in yet. I was hoping to know something by the time you got here ..."

"Will I be allowed to treat him, captain?" Phlox asked.

"Right now ... Az says that he doesn't want to speak to you. He seems pretty adamant." Archer told him, watching the Denobulan lean forward in his seat.

"I understand that much. But ... do you know if Tish ... Captain Archer, is he in danger?" asked the doctor, the pain all too apparent in his eyes.

"I don't know." answered Archer. "But I promise to keep you informed."

"That is all I can ask for, captain." nodded Phlox.

"You don't want to tell me what happened between the three of you, do you?" Archer inquired.

"I said some things that I shouldn't have a long time ago. I was never around when they were young. I failed them. And maybe I made them think that they had failed me." said Phlox.

"But your other three children ..."

"Were the children that I fathered when I was young and loved the idea of family and not other things, like university posts, off-world medical programs, and ... ambition. These two ... I believe I cheated them." he answered.

"That's a little harsh, doc."

"Perhaps so, but it is honest."


	3. The Beginnings of a Plan

The second Commander Tucker spotted T'Pol at the hatch of the engineering compartment, he dropped what he was doing and headed for the door. She raised one eyebrow as he approached. She could not understand his haste.

"Well?" he asked quietly, glancing down the corridor just in time to see Az step into another compartment that he guessed to be the bridge.

"I assume you are inquiring about the injured crew member." she stated. Trip nodded and wiped the sweat from his face. "I believe that he will die without the care that Doctor Phlox could provide. But his brother is stubborn, proud, and bitter, if I understand the application of those terms properly, and he would not allow the doctor onboard even if they were both dying."

Trip simply shook his head and said, "That's a shame, a damn shame."

"I agree with your sentiment." she said coolly.

"Really?"

"The loss will diminish his people."

"Coming from you, that is quite an expression of grief." he said.

"It is a matter of fact. To have maintained this craft as they have done, both must be extraordinary engineers, not to mention what can be inferred of their piloting and navigational abilities and so forth." she said.

"That reminds me. Have you submitted our plan for consolidation of quarters?" he asked, managing a small grin despite the situation.

"The proposal is nearly completed, however; this mission does take precedence. I believe that I can present a strong case in our favor." said T'Pol, lightly touching his lips with her fingertips before starting to walk away.

"You know that drives me crazy." he sighed after her.

"So you have said on numerous occasions, yet you remain quite sane. One must wonder."

T'Pol paused a few meters down the corridor and removed her communicator from her pocket. Captain Archer, she knew, was anticipating a report on the condition of the ship and its crew, such as they were: one badly injured and the other too proud to accept assistance on his brother's behalf. The situation was not promising and made all the more complicated by the fact that the two Denobulans were Phlox's estranged sons.

"T'Pol to Captain Archer. I have a status report for you." she said, keeping her voice low and even. She was not overly concerned about being overheard, but concern was an emotion. In all fairness suffice it to say that she wanted to keep her report confidential if at all possible.

"Go ahead." said Archer.

"The Denobulan ship can be repaired. Commander Tucker has not given me an estimate on the time or other expenditures required. He seems to believe, however, that it can be done." she informed him.

"That's good news then. What about ... the casualty?" asked the captain.

"He is bleeding internally and will not recover without medical treatment far more sophisticated than can be provided with a tricorder and a rudimentary medical kit."

The captain was silent for a few moments before sighing, "I want your opinion, sub-commander. Do you believe anything could change Az's mind?"

"I do not know, sir. Perhaps Commander Tucker could ..." she began to suggest.

"Trip is about as subtle as a phase pistol. No, I think this guy would only dig in deeper if provoked like that."

"I have spoken to Az. I suspect you are correct, captain, but both our options and resources are limited. Perhaps it would be for the best if we simply allowed Az to do what he believes to be right." said T'Pol.

"We may not have a choice, but I want to hope that things will work out otherwise." said Archer.

When Tish opened his gray-blue eyes, slowly surfacing from the unconsciousness that had held him in a murky, silent world of feverish dreams and shadows for too many days, his elder brother was near at hand, watching him with a brooding expression and concern-filled eyes. The faint sound of machinery, the engineers working not so great a distance down the corridor, caught his ears, though he could not readily identify the noise.

"Brother?" Tish questioned, his normally fluting voice touched by hoarseness.

"I am here." answered Az.

"What is going on?"

"Our distress signal was answered by an alien vessel, the Enterprise. They have sent us engineers. The Zedeev will be repaired."

"And a doctor? Have they sent us a doctor?" asked Tish.

Az looked away and shrugged before answering, "No, but ... he is on that ship. He is their doctor."

"Father?"

"Yes, Tish."

Tish closed his eyes and nodded that he understood. He shivered slightly.

"Did you see him?"

"Yeah. Looks the same as ever." said Az a little bitterly. "Do you want to see him?"

"I don't ... It hurts, brother." said Tish, squeezing his eyes closed.

"I can get some medication for you, but ... I've been told that it won't be enough, that you need better treatment."

"I don't want to see him."

"That's what I told them."

"And him?" asked Tish, opening his eyes.

"I really gave it to him." Az sighed.

"Why am I not surprised? What did he do?"

"Nothing. You know, he just stood there ... and let me say my piece." shrugged Az, leaning against the bulkhead.

"Didn't get into it? Fath ... He was never one to back down from a fight." coughed Tish.

"I think it was the shock."

"Of running into us out here? Yeah, I bet he thought he would never see us again."

"Are you sure you don't want to see him? I mean, I wouldn't mind. I could just stay clear of him." offered Az.

"Maybe I will get better ..."

"It could happen." Az agreed, only his eyes betraying him. He was doubtful. He had seen the scans. "Try to rest. I need to look in on that engineering crew."

"Take care of the ship, brother."

Az was not the only one who had seen Sub-commander T'Pol's tricorder scans. Phlox had been pouring over them in sickbay since they had first been transmitted. He didn't like what he saw, a fact that was only compounded by the fact that they were scans of his youngest son. The internal injuries were not severe, merely extensive. From his vast well of experience, Phlox determined that they were in all probability the result of a serious beating, no doubt administered by who ever had boarded the Zedeev. It was funny. He could imagine stubborn, unrelenting Az standing up to a party of pirates or raiders, but Tish was cooler, more reasonable of temperament.

"But people do change and every situation is different." Phlox reminded himself, looking at the cracked bones and bludgeoned organs.

He had been informed that the engineering team would be rotating personnel relatively soon. Phlox had more than half a mind to hitch a ride over with the next rotation. Assistance, he believed, would be more difficult to turn down in person. But he suspected that Captain Archer would rather he not cause an incident. After all, it was hardly the place of a Star Fleet captain or members of his crew to intrude upon the private affairs of another race, another culture. He had imparted some of those ideas to the captain himself. Maybe his own beliefs concerning non-interference were coming back to haunt him.

Their night had been a short one Trip reminded himself as he grudgingly boarded the shuttlepod back to the Enterprise with T'Pol and his team. He hated to leave the work, even in Lieutenant Hess's more than capable hands. T'Pol had left a hypospray of medication with Az, whose brother had slipped back into unconsciousness. Trip rued not having the chance to speak to the younger Denobulan. He thought that maybe he would be more likely to listen to reason. Pain could do that sometimes. T'Pol expressed no opinion on the matter, but he could tell that it was on her mind. He squeezed her hand as they entered the shuttle bay.

"It's not over yet." he said as they began the walk back to the officers' quarters.

"No." she agreed.

They stood at her door for a moment as Crewman Fuller, one of Trip's engineers, passed by on her way back to engineering.

"Commander, Sub-commander." she acknowledged brusquely.

"Crewman." said T'Pol.

"Always sees us together and never bats an eye. Got to hand it to her." said Trip as she vanished down a corridor.

"She has known about Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato for sometime. She is well practiced in the art of not seeing what she doesn't want to see. Or discretion."

"How do you know that then?"

"I saw her see them kiss near one of the torpedo tubes. She has said nothing of which I am aware."

"Can I come in or do you need an extra round of meditation?" asked Trip.

"You may come in. It is my intention to work on our request for shared quarters, and I desire your input." she said, opening the door for him.

Trip, well acquainted with her quarters, walked in and collapsed on the bed while she took a data pad from her desk, raising an eyebrow as he stretched and grinned at her.

"You want to see if we can get Malcolm and Hoshi in on this?" he asked her.

"It is my impression that Lieutenant Reed is not ready to make that step in his relationship with Ensign Sato. It would be premature and possibly ill-timed." T'Pol informed him, also reminding him of their respective ranks.

"Well ... maybe in a few months then."

"They are an attractive couple."

"Just like us."

"Yes." she said, a ghost of a smile playing across her lips. It was the most Trip had ever gotten since the time she had smiled at the captain's table after many days of not meditating.

"You're beautiful when you do that."

"And I am less beautiful at other times?" she questioned.

"I can't win, can I?"

"The odds are not in your favor."

Trip watched her make a few notations on the data pad, absent-mindedly pacing as she did so, but as graceful as a cat. He sighed softly and counted his blessings.

"Can you talk and type at the same time?" he questioned.

"Of course."

"What're we going to do 'bout that Denobulan that's dying over there?"

"I thought we both understood that there was nothing we can do. It is out of our hands." she told him, something subtle and slightly dangerous in her tone, almost like irritation or frustration.

"I've been wracking my brain for the last few hours. I have an idea, but I might need some help to pull it off."

"I am listening." said T'Pol, raising her eyes from the data pad and stopping where she stood.

"It involves something of a ruse." he said, beginning to outline his plan ...


	4. Evacuation and Conversation

A crew rotation came and went before Tucker and T'Pol found themselves aboard the shuttlepod again. Trip looked as though he had not slept very well, although he had managed to catch up on a few hours of shut eye while his Vulcan companion worked tirelessly on both his plan to save Tish's life and their plan to share accommodations. She was satisfied with neither, but the universe was imperfect and the situation was illogical. Phlox had remained holed up in sickbay, or so she had overheard Crewman Cutler say in the mess hall, and Captain Archer had yet to issue further orders regarding the Zedeev or its crew. It seemed to be up to them to remedy the situation.

Trip smiled softly at her as they exited the pod to be greeted a second time by Az, who looked haggard and even more worried than before.

"How's he doing?" the commander inquired as his engineers shuffled by them.

"He fades in and out of it. Tish is strong, but ..." Az replied, trailing off and simply shrugging.

"I will examine him again, if it is permitted." said T'Pol mechanically.

"Yes, thank you. I would be most grateful." nodded Az, leading her back down the familiar corridor while Commander Tucker, a preset tricorder in hand, began attending to other business.

The lights in sickbay were low when Captain Archer entered, taking a break from his other duties to visit his chief medical officer, who had seemed to have made himself scarce. Archer looked around for a moment before glimpsing Phlox at a computer, hard at work and oblivious to the presence of his commanding officer.

"Doc?" questioned Archer as the Denobulan hung his head.

Phlox looked up and managed a small, sad smile. He looked worn. Archer reminded himself about Denobulan sleeping habits before he had the chance to inquire inanely about whether the doctor was getting enough sleep. He knew very well that that wasn't the problem.

"Captain, what can I do for you?" asked Phlox, the cheer sapped from his voice.

"I wanted to know how you're holding up." said Archer, leaning against a biobed.

"As well as can be expected, I assure you."

"Have you thought about trying to contact Az?"

"Yes, many times, captain, but I know he would refuse to hear me. If he chooses to trust me, to let me back into their lives if only to do this one thing, if only to treat Tish, then he will do it in his own time and not before, no matter who cajoles him or how." answered Phlox.

"And you're content with that?"

"I must be."

"But you're not going to leave it at that." Archer stated uncertainly.

"I've been working on medication, better medication, for Tish. Maybe I can come up with something for Sub-commander T'Pol to give him that will ... do some good." said Phlox. For a moment his eyes seemed watery and Archer wondered if Denobulans cried like humans do.

"Then I will leave you to your work, doc, and good luck."

Sub-commander T'Pol could not help but to notice the anxious way in which Az watched her as she made a few additional scans of his brother before giving him another hypospray. She glanced at the time display on the tricorder and wondered when Trip would set his plan, grudgingly, their plan, into motion. She was not certain that they were taking the proper course of action, but it was a calculated risk. They owned much to the Denobulan physician who had not only served as their doctor, but often as their counselor as well. Without his kindly advice, meddlesome though it had periodically seemed, T'Pol knew that Commander Tucker and she would not be so close, would not share so much. Their lives would be substantially poorer without his influence. And for that they both felt that they owed him something.

"His condition remains the same." said the sub-commander evenly.

Az was about to pose another question when they heard the unmistakably sound of running footsteps in the corridor outside. Commander Tucker appeared in the doorway.

"We got to get out of here! I've found signs of an imminent hull breach in one of the forward compartments!" he informed them breathlessly, holding out a tricorder for Az's inspection.

The Denobulan grabbed the instrument and looked at the scans before asking, "Why wasn't this detected earlier?"

"It must be something to do with the alloy you use. It's completely alien to us. All I know is that we might be minutes from bein' blown into space. I've called for a shuttlepod. We have to evacuate." Trip explained urgently. "I'll send my people right back over when they've had a chance to suit up." he added.

"Commander, you cannot be suggesting that we move him ..." T'Pol began to say. Her skill at play acting had certainly improved in the past year.

"Can't leave him here. What if the hull blows?" said Trip.

"Yes, you are right, commander." agreed Az.

"Course I'm right. Let's get him to the docking area. That pod will be here any minute." Trip said, tucking away his tricorder and helping T'Pol hoist Tish from the bed. They tried not to exchange glances, lest they give away the relief that both the human and the Vulcan felt. They had expected a struggle or at least indecision on Az's part.

Captain Archer and a medical team, trained auxiliary personnel that did not include the chief medical officer, met them in the shuttle bay. Trip and T'Pol helped Tish, who was semi-conscious, onto a stretcher before letting the medical staff take over. Archer watched the team, followed by Az, leave the bay before turning to his two officers.

"A hull breach, Trip? Why didn't we catch this sooner?" the captain asked his chief engineer.

"Promise you won't get mad?" asked Trip with a lightly surly, self-satisfied smirk.

"No." Archer answered.

"There's nothing wrong with that ship's hull ... Well, that's not necessarily true. It was dinged up pretty bad, but it isn't in danger of rupturing anytime soon." Tucker informed him. When they had decided to go through with the plan, both Trip and the sub-commander had decided to be honest with their commanding officer.

"So you lied to him?" questioned Archer.

"It was ... logical to do so. If there is any chance of Az allowing our doctor to assist Tish, then this is that chance. Even if they still refuse to trust Doctor Phlox, they have the full advantage of our medical facilities now." T'Pol told him impassively.

"I have to admit it. It was a clever idea. But I would rather have been consulted." said Archer with a smile.

"We figured the fewer people in the know, the better. We didn't want Az getting suspicious." said Trip. "Next time, though, we'll be sure to give you a heads up."

Phlox was in sickbay when the call came in. He wasn't caught off-guard when the stretcher carrying Tish arrived. He glanced at the able crewmen who moved Tish onto a biobed and at his other son, who was too concerned about Tish to notice Phlox standing half hidden by a screen in the corner. It was not until one of the med team looked briefly in Phlox's direction that Az even realized his father was there. Az's face became stony as he averted his gaze.

The doctor continued to watch them, observing both his children and the crewman treating Tish. Few of them knew very much about the intricacies of Denobulan physiology, but they were both competent and capable, he decided, although treating Tish was something that he would much rather have done himself. But he knew by the look in Az's eyes that he wouldn't let him anywhere near Tish. Az had been stubborn and willful since childhood, what little of it Phlox had taken part in, and as an adult he had not changed. He had inherited the stubbornness from his mother. Tish, who still looked so young, on the other hand, may not have been so stubborn or hard-headed as his brother, but he seldom disagreed with the elder sibling. He was loyal. Phlox could not fault him for that, but if he had been otherwise, perhaps the dissension in the family would have been less and he would have only lost one son instead of two.

When Captain Archer walked into sickbay with Commander Tucker and T'Pol just behind him, Phlox's eyes met those of Az. In the quick glance he could see burning anger smoldering there, just as it had done on the bridge and so many years before when they had last spoken.

"I'm sorry your ship had to be evacuated." the captain told Az as he stepped away from his brother's biobed and the small throng of medical personnel.

"No, I am sorry, captain, for not detecting the problem earlier. Unfortunately, our sensors were knocked out during the conflict." said Az apologetically, putting his anger aside as he talked to Archer.

"It could happen to anyone." Trip interjected.

"We are in the process of finding quarters for you here until your ship is repaired, if that is satisfactory."

"I would not wish to be any bother, captain, but I would be grateful, especially if I may stay near Tish." he said.

"I think that can be arranged." said Archer with a smile. He looked over Az's shoulder to where the medical team was working. "Perhaps if you allowed ..." he began to say.

"Please, captain, I am in your debt, of course, but if you wish to suggest that he treat my brother, I must inform you that Tish has declined his assistance."

"Very well." said Archer grudgingly. "I should get back to the bridge. You two are welcome to stay here." he told Trip and T'Pol before walking out of sickbay.

"Maybe while they're patching up your brother, we could treat you to a meal." offered Commander Tucker.

"A meal?" questioned Az hesitantly.

"From what I understand, you've been eating resequenced food for months, heck, maybe years, right? The mess is just down the hall. You wouldn't even be that far away from your brother." said Trip with a welcoming grin.

Az let his eyes drift toward Phlox, who was watching his medical team with rapt attention, but making no move to interfere or intervene.

"Thanks. I can't seem to turn down the offer."

The trio, which included a silent and seemingly brooding T'Pol, sat down at a table near a window in the practically deserted mess hall. Trip was awed by the amount of food Az had heaped on his plate, none of which, he imagined, was familiar to the Denobulan. The guy had to be hungry, not to mention very adventurous, which was not unlike Doctor Phlox.

"I don't want to pester you about your relationship with your father, because I know it's a sore subject, but I'm afraid my curiosity is getting the better of me." said Trip as they began their meal.

"Have you known him long?" asked Az, taking the comment in stride.

"More than a year." answered Trip.

"Not very long then. I imagine you haven't noticed how much he likes to have his own way ... about everything or his penchant for making the affairs of others his own concern." said Az bitterly, stabbing at a vegetable on his plate.

As Trip and T'Pol exchanged glances, the commander beamed and she simply raised an eyebrow, hiding what might have been the very beginning of a smile with her napkin.

"What is it?" questioned Az, watching them.

"Well that last part ... about Phlox not minding his own business. I guess we can understand that, but he gives such good advice ..." chuckled Trip.

"Ah ... and does he continue to dabble in match-making as well?" inquired Az acidly.

"Not so much match-making ..." Trip began to argue.

"Yes." T'Pol stated, interrupting him. "And he is proficient at that task." she added.

Az simply shook his head and prodded at his vegetables, muttering in Denobulan.

"I think I get it." Trip said to T'Pol.

"What do you get?" she asked.

"Phlox tried to arrange them marriages without knowin' them."

Az looked up sharply, seeming to glower, as he retorted, "Yeah, that's it, almost exactly. He was in and out of the house when we were kids, and the very day Tish came of age, he set out trying to find brides for us." He coughed shortly before continuing. "'Rella is very attractive, Tish. Or Lyra. She's so smart.' 'Az, have you met Nalla? Her family owns a business.' 'Erri is such a sweet girl, and she has a sister.'" said Az, mimicking his father. "Can you imagine?" he asked them.

Commander Tucker almost expected T'Pol to answer in an empathetic manner as she was betrothed by her family at an early age, but she simply looked at Az placidly and said nothing.

"But it wasn't what you wanted. I get that." said Trip. "It doesn't mean you have to stay mad at him for the rest of your life. I think he knows that he made a mistake."

"Does he? I haven't heard him try to apologize, not before Tish and I bought that ship and left and not after." said Az, his eyes flashing with sudden, fierce anger.

"Have you given him the opportunity?" questioned T'Pol.

"That's my baby!" thought Trip with a slight smirk.

Az lowered his eyes and seemed to consider the question.

"Perhaps not." he admitted. "But I don't think he's sorry."

"You don't think he's sorry?" repeated Commander Tucker. "Did you see him in sickbay or do you have some kind of blind spot for people you don't like?" he asked incredulously.

"I ... Look, commander, it is more complicated than you think."

"Very well. Explain to us in what way it is complicated and we will listen." said T'Pol.

Az simply sighed and shook his head. Even T'Pol could tell that his resistance was wearing down.

"I will try ... to talk to him ... ask him to treat Tish so that my brother can do the same ... if he wishes. He will not refuse ... He was a doctor before he was ever our father ... and he was always a doctor long after he stopped being a father to us." said Az as though it were a struggle to do so.

There was an uncomfortable look of both relief and defeat in his eyes. He was glad that his brother would have the best care possible and therefore a fighting chance, but Az certainly begrudged the fact that he would have to speak to his father, that he would need to depend on him for anything, much less something so important.


	5. Talking

When Az entered sickbay, taking his leave of the two officers who had treated him to a meal, it was empty of medical personnel, excluding only the doctor, who stood near Tish's biobed, studying the monitors above the bed. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he did not turn as the doors hissed open and then closed behind Az. He had not been idle in his other son's absence, though he had acceded Az's wishes and allowed his medical team to treat Tish under his guidance.

"How is he?" Az questioned.

His voice was even, but Phlox could detect strain and distress in its tones. Denobulans were not ruled by their emotions nor did they suppress them as the Vulcans did. They were a moderate race, though some, such as Az and Tish, were of more volatile temperaments than others.

"Recovering. He is sedated at the moment to prevent further discomfort." answered Phlox, looking over his shoulder.

"Did you ...?" Az began to ask.

"I only provided a few instructions."

"So Tish is going to be fine?"

"There are some tests I would like to run ... to be sure, but I believe so." Phlox told him, finally taking his eyes from the monitors and looking at Az, who lingered near the door.

"Are you going to do it?"

"I thought you didn't want me to handle his case."

"Maybe I don't. Maybe Tish wouldn't either. But ...," Az laughed dryly, "if you want to help him, then you can."

"Why the sudden change of heart, if I may use a human expression?" questioned Phlox.

"You have friends on this ship. They say ... you regret what happened, what you said and did to us, all the stuff that happened when Tish and I were younger ... I don't know if it's true, but I thought maybe ... I should find out." said Az, adopting a defensive posture. He inclined his chin slightly. He had said something very difficult and seemed to be bracing for a blow.

Phlox looked baffled for a moment. Commander Tucker and Sub-commander T'Pol had obviously had a great influence on his son in an extraordinarily short amount of time. It was astonishing to say the least. He had never imagined that the pair could work such a miracle. He was speechless.

"Well, are you sorry?" asked Az impatiently.

"My life ... My marriages ... They were all so happy. They made me very happy when I was young and even now. I wanted the same for you and your brother. Am I sorry that I didn't understand what you wanted? Certainly. Am I sorry that I drove you away from me, away from your family? Of course. But I do not regret trying to do what I thought was right and what I thought was best." Phlox answered.

Az stood there silently for a moment, considering his words. Then he nodded slowly.

"We never wanted that, you know. We wanted to make our own lives, have our own destinies, not recreate yours. Maybe you should have known that, but ... you couldn't have. You didn't know us." said Az, turning away.

"Son ... maybe you're right." Phlox sighed. "But where do we go from here?"

"I don't know."

"I think it should be my quarters. It's decorated already and yours isn't." argued Trip, looking around the Spartan quarters that T'Pol called her own.

"That is not rational. I have said three times that you may decorate my quarters, if you so desire, and my quarters are point zero two six square meters larger than yours." she contended, holding out a data pad for his inspection. Knowing her attention to detail, Commander Tucker passed.

"But moving your stuff would take half an hour. Moving mine would take all day!"

"Lieutenant Reed could assist you, as could I. It needn't take more than an hour. Must I mention that my quarters are technically closer to engineering?"

"The hell they are! That's only if you don't go by the mess hall first, which I usually do, and I know I'm closer to it than you are by half a deck, maybe a little more."

"Your quarters are also slightly nearer to Captain Archer's." she pointed out.

"Now what's that supposed to mean?"

"I believe you understand perfectly well what I mean."

"He's knows, T'Pol. He has to by now. This request would tip him off if nothing else did. And we weren't meaning for this to be a big secret, were we?" he questioned, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed and looking up at her expectantly.

"We should remain discreet, Trip. I am certain that the captain has some suspicions, but there is no need to advertise our relationship."

"You ashamed of me?"

"At times like these you often forget I am Vulcan and, of course, do not indulge in such illogical feelings."

"That's supposed to be a 'no', right?"

"Yes, it is." she said, arching an eyebrow, almost daring him to continue with his argument.

"It's pointless to argue with a Vulcan." he sighed.

"Yes."

"All right, we can live here, but I want you to promise me that I can keep my family pictures and engineering things."

T'Pol set the data pad on her desk and sat down next to him on her bed, with any luck soon to be their bed, and touched his lips with her fingertips before leaning toward him and kissing him lightly. Sometimes her stomach seemed to flutter when he closed his eyes. This was one of those times.

"I promise." she said as she pulled away.

"Are you ready to submit that request?" he asked her, a smile spreading across his face.

"I believe so."

Az watched his father at work and could appreciate his skill. It was only his extreme proficiency at Denobulan medicine that had allowed him to translate those skills into ones that could be used to treat alien races, including those among whom he now lived. Some people, his mother's family especially, had come to consider Phlox a medical prodigy and praised him even in his absence concerning the degrees he had earned and his more prestigious appointments. But at what cost, Az wondered? He knew very well the cost.

"So ... Do you keep in touch with your mother and your aunts?" Phlox asked conversationally as he pressed a few buttons on the monitor above Tish's biobed.

"Not really ..." Az admitted. "They would have told you if I had, right?"

"Probably." Phlox agreed. "And your uncles and half-siblings ?"

"We send letters to Kizma sometimes. I always wondered if she kept them private. I guess she did."

"Your half-sister has always been respectful of the wishes of others."

"I guess she inherited that trait from her mother."

"What about Andra?" asked Phlox, referring to his other daughter. "Did she inherit the same disposition?"

Az laughed softly and said, "Of course not. She's just like you right down to her choice of careers. Andra wanted us to get married and settle down too. She told us to get degrees in engineering, so that we could still work with star ships, and to start a family."

"And Kizma?"

"She loaned us some money for the Zedeev and told us to come home soon."

"Funny. Kizma never mentioned that." commented Phlox.

"The part about the money?"

"Yes."

"We all have our little secrets, father, especially we younger ones." Az said, almost sneering.

"Would university have been so terrible, Az? For either of you, I mean."

"It wasn't what we needed. It certainly wasn't what we wanted. Tish and I wanted to learn by doing, not by sitting in a classroom for years and years, wasting our time and our potential."

"So you became explorers and cargo runners instead?"

Az narrowed his eyes as he answered, "Yeah, we haul freight from time to time. It pays our way. But we consider ourselves stellar cartographers, if you want to know."

"The two of you make maps?" questioned Phlox, looking at Az curiously.

"We have charted more than sixty systems with great precision since leaving Denobula. There would have been more, but our lateral sensors began malfunctioning some time ago. We've been doing cargo runs to earn money to have repairs made. If it weren't for our recent unfortunate encounter, we would have had enough and we could return to our work." sighed Az, running his hands through his hair.

"I never realized that you were interested in stellar cartography."

"It was Tish's idea at first. The database back home was never as sophisticated as the Vulcan databases were supposed to be. He thought we could collect data while we were doing our exploring and return home with it to make a name for ourselves in the field. Then we could get a bigger ship, maybe with a crew, laboratories, and everything, and see even more of the galaxy." Az explained.

"Ambitious."

"I hardly thought you of all people would have a problem with that."

"I don't. It was only an observation."

"We were planning to return home soon ... with our data. Then this happened." shrugged Az. "It will probably take a year or more to raise the money to repair our scanners and complete our investigation of five systems along our projected return course. Tish has estimated that we will arrive back on Denobula in two years at best."

"I can help you solve one of your problems."

"How?"

"Commander Tucker is an engineer. I am certain he would be able to repair your sensor array with the assistance of our science officer."

"I can't ask them to do that. It would be taking advantage."

Phlox chuckled and smiled before telling Az, "Perhaps it might be considered that, but I don't think Captain Archer would see it in that light. He and his crew have helped many people during this mission without the possibility of tangible gain. It is an interesting thing. I would recommend making either the captain or the commander aware of your dilemma. They would probably be only too pleased to help you."

"Thanks." said Az.

"Any time."


	6. The Other Son

T'Pol stood at attention in the captain's ready room as he read over her request. Commander Tucker, conspicuously absent, had returned to the Zedeev to tell his engineers that they could take their EV suits off and work in a more normal manner, which meant that he had begged out of going to present the 'quarters consolidation' request to Captain Archer. The captain coughed to disguise a laugh as he read the very logical proposal.

"This was obviously very well thought out and researched. I imagine Lieutenant Hess would be very grateful for your recommendation concerning the reassignment of Trip's quarters, although you're right, we could use the extra storage space too." he said, looking up from the data pad.

"Thank you, captain." she said, shifting slightly, uncomfortably at his humor.

"I will take your request under serious consideration, sub-commander." he told her. "But there are regulations to consider."

"To what regulations are you referring? I am not technically a Star Fleet officer, and regulations against fraternization may not apply in this situation, given that we are of nearly equal rank in our respective services. If I may be so bold as to make that observation, sir."

"True ..." Captain Archer admitted. "I just wanted to know how you really felt about this request."

T'Pol simply blinked and replied, "I believe you have your answer."

"Then I guess you deserve yours. I am approving your request, effective immediately. I hope I never any reason to regret doing so." said Archer with a smile.

"Thank you, and I am certain that arrangement will work out amicably." she said.

"Well, that might be too much to hope for, T'Pol. I'm just hoping to avoid weapons fire. That sort of thing." he chuckled, tempted to tell the sub-commander that the course of true love never runs smooth.

"I will keep that in mind." said T'Pol, gracefully raising one eyebrow.

Just as she turned to leave, the door of the captain's ready room chimed. Archer gestured for her to stay.

"Come in." he called.

The door whisked open to reveal Az. The captain grinned as he motioned for Az to step inside.

"What can I do for you, Az?" Archer inquired.

"I ... My father ... He suggested that I ask you or Commander Tucker. My ship's lateral scanners began malfunctioning sometime ago, and my brother and I do not have the technical know-how to repair them. Would it be an inconvenience to have someone take a look at them?" Az questioned nervously.

Archer grinned and turned toward Sub-commander T'Pol before he asked, "What do you think, T'Pol? Can we do something to help out?"

"I have some experience with scanning devices. I would be willing to attempt repairs." she replied.

The engines of the Zedeev were beginning to look like something again by the time Commander Tucker, grimy and stiff, crawled out of an access panel and checked the monitors again. Most of his team were repairing burned out relays and performing routine diagnostics. Trip wiped his sweat streaked face on his sleeve and looked around with a small smile of satisfaction. Twelve hours and a few test runs and the Zedeev would be fit to fly again. It still wouldn't look nice, but it would in working condition.

As he stood there, one of his engineers, Crewman Rostov, appeared at the open hatch and yelled, "A shuttlepod's about to dock, sir."

"Is this shift over already?" questioned Tucker.

"No, sir."

"I guess I'd better see what's the matter then." he said, wiping his face a second time. "Keep an eye on those monitors for me." said Trip as he climbed through the hatch and out of the engineering compartment.

T'Pol and Az were just climbing out of the shuttle when Trip reached the docking area of the ship. The Vulcan wrinkled her nose slightly as he approached them. Even after a year, the smell of sweat and engine grease was no more appealing than it had been initially. Trip grinned as he noticed her reaction and stepped back a pace.

"Welcome back aboard." Trip said to Az. "I think you'll find her in better shape than you left her. We're only a few hours away from bringing the engines on-line."

"Thank you, Commander Tucker. I have heard that you can perform extraordinary feats of engineering. I must admit, this seems to be one. The raiders that boarded our vessel did their best to permanently disable our engines. I never believed anyone would be able to repair them." said Az with a smile that nearly beat Trip's.

"Right now, we are on our way to examine the lateral scanners. They are malfunctioning and are in needs of repair." T'Pol informed him.

"Aw, you should have mentioned that earlier! I could've had one my guys already on that. Rostov's been minding the diagnostics for three hours. That would've given him something to do in the meantime." said Commander Tucker, shaking his head.

"I didn't want to be a bother." stammered Az.

Trip grabbed him by the shoulder as they began walking toward the bridge and said, "It's no bother. We all like this kind of thing. Beats fixing the broken stuff on the Enterprise. It's a right nice change of pace."

T'Pol unobtrusively removed the commander's hand from Az's shoulder.

"They don't like to be touched." she reminded Trip quietly.

"Right. Sorry about that." said Tucker as Az almost mechanically shrugged his shoulder and brushed off his tunic.

"It is a cultural thing, I presume, so think nothing of it." he said.

"The humans are relatively new to space exploration and have much to learn about interacting even with more familiar alien cultures, although none of their failings can be attributed a lack of effort." said T'Pol in diplomatic tones.

Trip, having become at least somewhat accustomed to her well-meaning jibes, glowered quietly as he kept his hands to himself and silently repeated his mantra to himself: "If you lose your temper, she'll make you meditate later. If you lose your temper ..."

"We have had contact with other, more gregarious races, sub-commander. That hardly needs to be explained." said Az. "Many of them find our race slightly off-putting for that reason."

"As some races fault my people for our pursuit of logic and clarity of thought." said T'Pol as they stepped onto the bridge on the tiny vessel.

"You know, unfair assumptions are made about humans too." said Commander Tucker rather pointedly.

"I'm sure they are." said T'Pol. "Would you mind indicating from where we should access your scanners, Az?" she questioned.

"Right over here." he answered, hiding a smile as he stepped toward a darkened panel on the far bulkhead. It was obvious even to him that T'Pol and the commander were very much in love.

When Tish opened his eyes, he was momentarily surprised to find himself somewhere other than the quarters that he shared with Az aboard the Zedeev, but then he remembered the foggy journey onboard a shuttlepod and being carried through the corridors of an alien vessel. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes as he realized that he felt much better, not entirely well, but substantially more like himself. As he slowly sat up a nearby voice alerted him to the fact that he was not alone.

"You're awake." stated the friendly, but tentative voice.

"Father?" questioned Tish, squinting against the increase in the room's brightness. Phlox had turned the lights up before approaching the biobed.

"Indeed." said the doctor, glancing at the read outs on the monitors as he came to stand by his son's bedside.

"I told Az that I didn't want to see you." he said sulkily, rubbing his eyes.

"People often say things that they don't mean." said Phlox.

"Where's my brother?"

"He is taking care of your ship. I am taking care of you ... with his consent." Phlox informed him.

Tish looked at him blankly and questioned, "He isn't angry anymore?"

"Oh, no, Az is still very angry, but ... we had a talk."

"And?" questioned Tish expectantly.

"It was very enlightening." Phlox answered.

Tish frowned slightly and looked away. Phlox recognized that look. When Az didn't want to talk anymore, he would get angry and storm out of the room. Tish would simply grow very taciturn and his eyes would glaze over slightly as though he retreated into an inner world.

"When can I return to the Zedeev?" he asked.

"Tish ... your brother would want me to tell you what I told him."

The younger Denobulan swung his legs over the edge of the biobed to look Phlox in the eye as he said, "I'm listening."

"I am sorry for trying to make you live my life ... and for spending less time in my role as a father than perhaps I should have." said Phlox.

"Az said that you had changed. Maybe he was right." laughed Tish, shaking his head. "I guess I can accept your apology just so long as you don't try to find wives for me ever again."

"Then you weren't angry? After all these years, you ...?" Phlox began to ask.

"When Az and I were children we realized that we needed something to hold on to, something to depend on, and we knew that it couldn't be you. All we had for sure was each other. When we left home on the Zedeev, we swore that we would never speak to you or see you again. I mean, you were there, right? You remember thrusting that horrible girl at me and trying to get me to talk to her. I was just coming of age ... with a bright future ahead ... and there I was standing toe to toe with this dreadfully ugly girl who happened to have a sister Az's age. It was supposed to be a happy occasion. All the aunts, uncles, cousins, half-siblings, the whole family was there. But who rescued me? You? Of course not! It was Az. Was I angry then? Yes, and for years after. Not just for that, but for everything. That day was absolutely it for me. But after being out here in space ... charting the stars and having some great adventures with Az ... I guess I forgot to be mad anymore, even if Az didn't." said Tish with a shrug.

"I never realized." said Phlox, feeling slightly wounded, but mostly regretful.

"I know. You just showed up at the party after six years on Vulcan or wherever it is you were and began randomly grabbing unmarried girls and shoving them toward Az and me. But ... Az always had it harder than I did. You were around when he was really small. Then you kind of vanished. I never had a father to lose. Or at least that's how it felt when I was old enough to understand why Az seemed mad at the world." said Tish, who was far more expressive than his older brother.

"If it is any consolation, I always missed you and your brother and the rest of the family when my career took me away from all of you."

"I suppose it is, but it would have been more if you had told us at the time. Things could have worked out differently."

"Yes." Phlox agreed. After an awkward paused, he smiled softly at his son and told him, "Your injuries were extensive. You need to rest now."

Tish nodded and reclined on the biobed again. Phlox glanced at the monitors as he did so.

"I was ... Az said that I was brave when they boarded the ship." said Tish.

"I'm sure you were. Perhaps you will tell me about it later?" asked Phlox with a smile.

"Perhaps I will." he agreed as Phlox administered another sedative.


	7. Good News

The lateral scanner array, Trip decided, was fried almost beyond belief due to constant use over a period of time so vast that he didn't even want to make a guess. Most of the ship's sensors, internal and external, were in the advanced stages of burning out too. The hardware had been kept intact by constant jury-rigging, although he had to admit that they systems had been well maintained too and that Az and Tish were very inventive problem-solvers.

"I presented our request earlier today." T'Pol informed Trip as he sifted through some spare components from his repair kit.

"How does our situation look?" he asked, glancing up at her from his position near an open conduit.

"It depends. When you move your belongings are you or are you not going to ask Mister Reed to help you?" she questioned neutrally.

"Hot damn! He already approved it?" asked Trip with a loud whoop and a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"That is correct." said T'Pol as he scrambled to his feet.

"I thought he'd need to think about it. Or at least make us sweat it out until this crisis is over." said Trip.

"There is a limited amount of enjoyment to be derived from making a Vulcan sweat anything out." she said.

"S'pose so, but it sure takes a load off my mind."

"If your mind is sufficiently unloaded, we should get back to work. These scanners, naturally, will not fix themselves."

"I know it's only me being human, but I wish you could let me know somehow that you're happy about this."

She blinked solemnly and looked at him with a particularly piercing gaze.

"I will let you know, Trip. Tonight, perhaps."

Malcolm Reed was walking from the lift toward his quarters after a long and rather predictable shift on the bridge, monitoring the Zedeev, when Commander Tucker came barreling down the corridor from the shuttle bay, nearly running him down.

"Malcolm!" he yelled, seizing the Englishman by the shoulders.

Lieutenant Reed merely gave him a look that said, "My God, man! Are you mad?"

"I need some help, and you are just the guy for the job. You got a minute?" asked Trip, practically dragging him down the hall as Trip continued in the direction he had been going.

"Certainly." answered Malcolm.

"I'm moving! Switching quarters. We're consolidating."

"Us, sir?"

"No, no, no! Not me and you. Me and T'Pol. We're going to be sharing quarters." said Trip, lowering his voice slightly.

"You don't say so?" questioned Malcolm, his eyes widening.

"The hell I don't! I just need a little bit of help moving my things from one place to the other. T'Pol is still on the Zedeev, calibrating some sensors and what not, but I'm technically off duty and I bet you are too. That's means you can help me, right?" questioned Trip.

"This isn't some horrible practical joke, is it, sir?"

"Of course not. We have the captain's permission."

"Then I suppose I'd be glad to help." nodded Malcolm.

"Thanks, and who knows? I might be doing the same thing for you and Hoshi one of these days." said Trip, slapping Malcolm on the back.

The young lieutenant blushed furiously and coughed, "I hardly think ..."

"Aw, you never know." laughed Trip as they reached his quarters.

Az, having returned on the same pod as Commander Tucker, found his way back to sickbay with little difficulty. He smiled as he walked through the corridors of the Enterprise. If the stellar cartography data that Tish and he had collected proved to be as valuable as they believed, they could hope to command a ship that rivaled the Enterprise in size one day. It was a day that they were eagerly awaiting.

Stepping into sickbay, he first noted his brother, who was still lying on a biobed, and then Phlox who was feeding something a cage. Az was familiar with some of the specimens in his father's menagerie, remembering when he had brought some of the creatures home with him at various times.

"Father?" he called.

Phlox turned and smiled as he closed the cage.

"Az." he said with a nod.

"The ship will be in working condition again in approximately twelve human hours. Will Tish be ready for the journey home by then?" he inquired.

"I believe so, although I would like to send some additional medication for him with you." Phlox replied.

"Thank you."

"You are returning to Denobula?"

"That is our goal. We have data and research to present and plans for the future, which is looking increasingly bright."

"I am glad to hear that. Nothing would please me more than to see the two of you happy."

"I know that ... now." said Az.

"I didn't understand the spirit of exploration until I was much older than you are, Az, until I came aboard this vessel and began serving with these people. Now that I understand that ... Now that I look at you ... I know why you wanted the lives that you two have chosen. Even if I wasn't a big part of your lives growing up, I still see that part of myself in you and I am ... glad that you discovered it sooner." Phlox told him.

"So am I, father." said Az. "If it helps you to understand Tish and me better, then I am very glad that you understand what it means to be an explorer too."


	8. Good-Bye and Good Night

Sub-commander T'Pol stopped in her tracks when she walked into her quarters, having just returned from the final scanner calibration test aboard the Zedeev. There were framed blueprints and engine schematics on her walls, not to mention engineering-related knickknacks and a family portrait or two on her desk. Her mediation candles had been stack in a pyramid shaped formation on the desk's corner. A couple of boxes were shoved beneath her bed and sticking out slightly. The doors to her small metallic wardrobe were swinging open. Half the clothes hanging therein were no longer hers. A mish-mash of civilian, human clothes and Star Fleet issue items occupied one half. She blinked. Commander Tucker had obviously moved in during her absence. Despite his protests concerning the time required to perform the task, it had been done in less than four hours and seventeen minutes. And he was nowhere to be seen.

Looking at her closet for a second time, Sub-commander T'Pol stated to the empty room, "I cannot live like this." And immediately exited her quarters. She had to find Trip. This had to be fixed.

Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed were having an earlier supper. The ship board schedule was not what it once was, primarily due to the interruption in their 'routine' caused by having a ship to repair, a crisis that had begun in the middle of the night. The lieutenant rose when he saw T'Pol enter the mess hall and offered her his chair.

"Sub-commander, I was just about to leave. Would you care to take my seat?" he inquired, moving his nearly empty tray out of her way.

"Thank you, lieutenant." she said evenly, although the armory officer, not to mention Trip, thought he could hear the sound of less than perfectly suppressed annoyance in her voice.

"What's the matter?" asked Trip as soon as Malcolm had made a tactical retreat and T'Pol had seated herself at the table.

"My quarters are no longer ... orderly." she informed him.

"I was careful with everything. Not that there was much to be careful with ... And I didn't leave anything on the floor." he said, raising his eyebrows at the accusation.

"All true, but nevertheless, the appearance of neatness and orderliness is no longer there. For instance, the place where I store my clean and laundered uniforms ..."

"The closet?"

"Yes. It is no longer organized. It looks too chaotic."

"It's because you don't have any civilian clothes. Well, other than the robes you keep in the back. Mine just look out of place. But, tell you what, I can get a storage locker from the quartermaster and keep them in there. No problem." said Trip, smiling as he tried to compromise with the disconcerted Vulcan. "What else you got?" he asked.

"The boxes ..."

"Temporary, I swear. I just need someplace to put some of the stuff I've collected. I think there's a store room down in engineering that'll work fine. It is mostly parts and pieces, after all."

T'Pol considered his conciliatory attitude and seemed to relax ever-so-slightly. She touched his hand lightly across the table.

"Thank you. I believe that I can live with everything else, although I would be most appreciative if you refrained from stacking my meditation candles in geometric shapes."

"I think I can do that. You hungry or do you want to help me get those boxes down to engineering?" he asked.

"I could ... tolerate a piece of pecan pie, if any remains." she said, looking at the empty plate on his tray.

"Comin' right up."

He knew that it was going to be a big adjustment for both of them, and they had just taken the first hurdle at a flying leap.

The repairs aboard the Zedeev were completed by the end of following shift. The warp engines had been tested and were still performing below optimal. Commander Tucker estimated that the engines could maintain warp three point two at best, which would have the brothers back to their home world in what they considered a reasonable amount of time. The other systems, including the lateral scanners and the sensor arrays, were almost as good as new, much to Tish's satisfaction when he read the report that was delivered to sickbay by Crewman Fuller.

"You are releasing him now, right?" Az questioned Phlox as he read the report over his brother's shoulder.

"I am." Phlox affirmed.

"And from the look of things, we should be able to get underway immediately." said Tish, turning the report to his brother.

"I agree." said Az.

Tish slid from the biobed and stretched, rubbing his still slightly bruised ribs. Phlox removed a small kit from a nearby counter and gave it to Az.

"Make sure your brother takes his medication for the next few weeks." said the doctor.

"I will." Az assured him with a chuckle.

"Captain Archer wanted to see both of you off. He is awaiting your arrival in the shuttlepod bay. You two shouldn't keep him waiting." Phlox told them.

"Of course not." said Tish.

As they all walked toward the door of sickbay Phlox said, "It was nice to see you both again. When this mission is over and my steps also turn toward home again ..."

"We may not be there, father. Remember, with any luck, we will have a research vessel of our own by then. But ... when our paths do cross again, I will be pleased to see you, father." said Az awkwardly.

"Me too." Tish echoed.

Az and Tish stepped in he direction of the bay and turned as Phlox remained by the sickbay doors. They understood that he would not see them off. Az recognized the look on his face only half-disguised by a smile. He was going to miss them and didn't want to see them go.

"Good-bye, father." said Az.

"See you soon, boys." he said. As they started down the corridor, he called after them, "And would it kill you to contact your mother sometime? You know how she worries!"

The brothers grinned over their shoulders and nodded as they turned the corner.

Captain Archer smiled as he saw Az and Tish walk through the doors of the shuttlepod bay. Neither looked particularly distressed anymore.

"We both want to thank you for all the assistance that you and your crew have provided. If there is ever anything we can do to repay you ..." Az began to say, but Archer held up a hand to stop him.

"Unnecessary. It was our pleasure." he assured the two young Denobulans.

"Please pass our gratitude along to Sub-commander T'Pol and Commander Tucker and his engineers. I have never seen finer work." said Az.

"I would be glad to." chuckled Captain Archer.

He watched the pair board the pod before exiting the bay. Archer knew that he couldn't solve every problem they encountered, that some things were beyond his control, as Sub-commander T'Pol sometimes reminded him, but on this occasion they had done all right. He chuckled softly and began making his way toward sickbay, wondering if Phlox would be in the mood to talk about life, the very complicated life of his people on his planet, perhaps over an early breakfast or whatever meal Chef happened to be preparing.

Meanwhile, in the quarters that T'Pol and Trip were sharing, Commander Tucker sighed softly in the darkness and moved closer to his sleeping companion. She was fast asleep, and he was drowsy. It had been a pleasant evening. Very pleasant, he decided, mentally mimicking T'Pol's own words. After a year of sleeping almost every night in the same quarters, her place didn't quite feel like home, but he smiled and knew that he would be used to it soon enough. She stirred slightly in her sleep, and he hoped that she would get used to his chaotic presence soon as well. Of course, they would still have their differences and their arguments. It would hardly be a worthwhile relationship without them. But Trip could barely even imagine that he had ever lived without her, without the beautiful Vulcan sleeping by his side.

Commander Tucker closed his eyes and relaxed as he felt the vibration of the warp engines coming on-line. Everything had been squared away with the Zedeev and they, the crew of the Enterprise, were ready to face whatever was ahead, whatever was next. And as Trip finally drifted to sleep, he knew that they, T'Pol and himself, would be ready too.


End file.
